


Love Languages

by okaybi



Series: ri’s stuckony au’s [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Getting Together, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, James "Rhodey" Rhodes is a Good Bro, M/M, Nerd Tony Stark, Polyamory, Tony Stark Has Issues, Tony Stark-centric, Touch Starved Tony Stark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-25
Updated: 2020-06-25
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:35:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24903937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/okaybi/pseuds/okaybi
Summary: “I like you,” Bucky tells him.“I like you, too,” Steve chimes in.“And we both like each other.”“Alright?” Tony asks, brow furrowing in confusion.or: a stuckony high school au that no one asked for
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Series: ri’s stuckony au’s [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1831834
Comments: 7
Kudos: 357





	Love Languages

**Author's Note:**

> i have to write stuckony au’s bc i get mad at steve in canon lol

The ways Tony shows his love are plentiful. 

There are nicknames and inside jokes. Helping with homework and dropping everything to rush to a friend’s aid. Gifts, man did he love to simply give people the things they needed and wanted. 

Just past the surface—under all of these other methods, buried beneath his skin after Howard scraped the desire to express his affection so carelessly out of him—is touch. 

Now, Tony’s a touch-starved kid. He hasn’t had a hug since he was... eight, maybe? Before his mother had, according to Howard, did the only smart thing in her life and left Tony behind. The contact he gets from his father is unpleasant, to say the least; it ends with a series of dark bruises clustered on his ribs, a ring around his throat sometimes. 

So, Tony doesn’t usually express his affection tactilely. Instead, he opts for the easier, less terror-inducing options whenever possible. The only person he’s ever openly touchy with is Rhodey, which probably doesn’t count because they’ve been best friends for ages and Rhodey’s always had his back. That’s only on the good days, in small quantities no less. A brush of their shoulders for a moment longer than accidental, a squeeze of the elbow in thanks, a friendly shove of the shoulder, the occasional short hug. 

As long as he’s comfortable with a person, and they make their movements and intentions slow and obvious, he has little problem accepting a hug or touch. He just isn’t one to be touchy and risk getting hurt in return. After all, it’s unbecoming of a Stark to wear his emotions so freely as to openly show a weakness. 

Perhaps it’s not the best system, but it works for him. 

It’s not until he gets to know Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes that Tony finds himself wishing to be more giving with his touches. 

It’s a rainy October day in their school library. Tony’s sitting at his usual table in the back corner, quickly going through problems in a college calculus textbook, because the math here is boring and unchallenging. He absorbs himself in the work, finding the motions of working out solutions both calming and distracting. 

Someone clears their throat in front of him and he flinches away instinctively before remembering he’s at school. He snaps his head up to find two boys, one blond and one brunet, standing at the opposite end of his table. The brunet has a hand placed on the chair beside him, leaning his weight onto it, pretty eyes watching Tony intently. The blond is less casual, standing rather stiff, eyes trained shyly on the ground. 

“Yes?” Tony asks after realizing they’re not going to say anything. “Can I help you?” 

The blond one blushes profusely, made all the more prominent by his fair skin tone, but the other boy just smirks. “Yeah, doll, you’ve got the highest grade in advanced physics.” 

“Okay,” Tony says slowly, still not seeing what they’re here for. 

“We wanted to know if you’d tutor us,” the blond says, finally meeting Tony’s gaze. “Nat said you helped her with chem last year.” 

“Really?” Tony actually did help Natasha with some of the harder concepts of their AP chemistry class the year prior, but he’s still surprised by them mentioning it. He wasn’t aware Nat was friends with anyone outside of their group of Clint, Bruce, Pepper, Rhodey, Nat, and himself. Which, stupid, but to be fair he doesn’t go out much or know many people at their school. 

“Mhm, we need the help real bad.” 

“And we’ll pay.” 

Tony shakes his head. “Nope, I don’t charge.” It’s not like he needs the money, and he’s not about to put anyone else out because their teachers do a terrible job of teaching them. 

“But-“ 

“You can pay me by telling me your names,” Tony says, seeing the stubborn glint in the blond’s eyes and assuming he wouldn’t give up. 

“That’s not an actual-“ 

The brunet slides fluidly into the seat to Tony’s right, extending his hand which Tony accepts. “James, but most people call me Bucky.” There’s a grin on his face that Tony can only place as belonging to someone with a knack for stirring shit up. “Sit, Stevie.” 

Grumbling, he sits down in the chair next to Bucky’s. “I’m Steve.” 

“Nice to meet you both, I’m Tony.” 

Bucky snorts. “We know. Did you really not know our names?” 

It’s Tony’s turn to blush. He fiddles with the pencil in his hand. “No? I don’t really...” He gestures vaguely trying to convey his point and likely failing miserably. “I tend to hyper focus on classes and deadlines,” Tony admits. It’s easier, the hyper focusing, than paying attention to what his life is actually like. 

Both boys nod. 

“What do you need help on specifically?” 

Steve pulls a navy blue folder out of his bag. Digging through the pile of papers, he eventually comes up with the right one, sliding it to Tony. “This lab, it makes no sense to me. Either of us, really. Science isn’t really either of our things.” 

Tony hums, eyes flicking over the lab paper. “What are your things then?” 

“Art,” Steve says immediately, “JROTC.” 

Turning to Bucky, Tony says, “And you?” 

“English and history,” he answers with a half shrug. 

“All things I’m terrible at,” Tony says with a laugh. He checks the time with a curse. “When’s this lab due again?” His own assignment is already sitting in the third period turnin tray. 

“Next Thursday.” 

A week, he could do that easily. 

“Okay. I have to go.” He passes the paper back to Steve and pushes his books back into his bag haphazardly. “Is tomorrow after school a good time to work on this?” 

“Yeah, doll. Can you give us your number real quick, so we know when to meet and where?” 

Tony hastily scrawls the series of numbers into a notebook provided by Steve. He rushes out the door as soon as he’s done, hoping against hope that he makes it to the house before his father. 

He doesn’t. 

***

The next day, he shows up to school wearing an oversized hoodie he’d stolen from Rhodey to cover the circle of bruises in the shape of fingerprints around his wrist. 

His head aches and he desperately wants to go home but he can’t miss class. Grades are too important. It wouldn’t do to let them slip and have Howard call him a fuck up for yet another reason. 

So there he is, sitting in the back of his English class trying to focus on _Of Mice and Men_ but he keeps zoning out. He feels a light tap to his calf and blinks owlishly before turning to the source. 

“You alright, Tones?” There’s a worried crease in Rhodey’s forehead and a frown tugging at his lips. 

Tony tries to smile, but he knows it falls flat. “I’m fine, honeybear.” 

The frown deepens, however, Rhodey doesn’t comment. “The bell’s about to ring. I’ll let you copy my notes later.” It’s not the end of this conversation. For now, though, Tony has a reprieve. 

He nods, gathering his folder and copy of the book to return to his backpack right as the bell sounds. Swinging the strap over his shoulder, he hauls the bag and himself out of English alongside everyone else. 

There’s a buzz from his pocket and he finagles his phone out of it to check the notifications. 

**Unknown Sender:** _hey, this is Bucky, where are we meeting to go over the lab_

**Tony:** _the library?_

**Bucky:** _sounds good, see you then doll_

“What are you getting all red for?” Rhodey asks him, plucking the phone out of his hand with ease. 

Tony scrambles to grab it back. “Give it!” 

Rhodey, tall bastard that he is, holds the device over his head out of Tony’s reach. “Got yourself a super secret boyfriend and didn’t tell me? I’m hurt.” 

“He’s definitely not my boyfriend. You know you’re the only guy for me, platypus.” He bats his eyes up at Rhodey. 

Rhodey snorts and reads the messages. 

“Bucky? As in Bucky Barnes?” 

“Maybe?” Tony replies. “I didn’t really catch his last name.” 

A pointed glance. 

“Not like that!” Tony shrieks, startling more than a few passersby. He winces and ducks his head, pulling the sleeves of his hoodie down over his hands. “I’m tutoring him and another kid, Steve,” he says in a quieter tone. 

“Rogers?” 

“I thought we already established I don’t know their last names.” 

“What do you know then?” Rhodey snarks. 

They start towards second period statistics—of the advanced nature, in true Tony fashion. “Uh, Steve likes art and is in JROTC, I think.” 

“Yep, that’s Rogers.” 

Tony shrugs, because it’s not like knowing his last name makes any real difference. Besides gossip, but Tony’s only one to listen to the gossip Nat and Clint spill about, because somehow they’re never wrong and they don’t talk about things people don’t want getting out. Privacy is a neat concept that more people should learn to respect. 

“Wait, does that mean you know him?” It’d completely gone over his head that Rhodey is also in JROTC. 

Rhodey takes his usual desk at the front of the room, grinning up at Tony. “Know your boy Barnes, too. Comes to give Steve a ride home. They’re both-” 

“No. Don’t even.” Tony resists the urge to clap his hands on his ears and sing to drown out the teasing. Instead, he buries his head into his arms on his own desk. 

“You’re such a child, Tones. It’s okay to think they’re attractive.” 

The tardy bell rings, saving Tony from having to reply. With the distraction gone, the emptiness has little trouble taking over him again. 

It stays for the rest of the school day. 

***

Tony plops into his chair in the library, exhaustion weighing on him heavily. The only plus side is that Howard is away on a business trip for the next week, so there’s no reason to worry about the consequences of getting home late. 

He opens his physics textbook and pulls his formula chart out of the folder, checking the clock across from him. It’s only been a few minutes since the bell; it’ll probably be a little longer before Steve and Bucky get there. The campus is surprisingly large for a high school, the layout more reminiscent to that of a university. Tony doodles on an outline for his unstarted English essay to pass the time. 

A book drops onto the table and Tony clenches his hand around his pencil to stop himself from recoiling. “Hey.” 

Glancing up, Tony sees the adorable sight that is Bucky with his long hair in a braid thrown over his shoulder. Most people may not refer to someone who looks like Bucky as adorable—hot, perhaps—but that’s the only word Tony can find that fits what he feels looking at him. 

“Hi,” Tony responds, “Steve on his way?” 

“Yeah.” Bucky throws himself into a chair, lazily pulling out his lab paper just as Steve rushes in. 

“Hey guys, sorry I got caught up in the art room.” And sure enough, there are flecks of paint decorating Steve’s hands and wrists, even some on his T-shirt. It’s—cute, for lack of a better word.

“That’s okay,” Tony says, smiling slightly. “Ready to knock this lab out?” 

Steve nods and Bucky groans playfully. “No, definitely not.” 

Tony rolls his eyes. “Suck it up, buttercup.” He doesn’t miss the way Bucky quirks a smile at that, or the faint blush. “Now, projectile motion…” And on it goes, Tony going over the intricacies of the lab and the other two listening attentively as he repeats the formula for the acceleration of an object in projectile motion. He helps them graph the data points after their calculations are made and smiles encouragingly when they grasp a concept. 

By the time they’re done, Tony’s back is aching from having sat for so long. They pack their things away, Tony thinking of stopping to pick up a coffee on his way to the house. 

“Thanks, Tony,” Steve says earnestly, raking a hand through his hair and grinning. 

“Don’t mention it, peaches.” _Fuck,_ why does he keep calling them cute names. He pulls nervously on the sleeve of his jacket, accidentally rucking it up. Bucky’s eyes follow the motion and zero in on his wrist. Violently shoving it back down, Tony forces a grin on his face. “Let me know if you need any more help in physics.” And darts out of the library. 

_Stupid, stupid, stupid,_ he thinks, _get it together._

He fishes his phone out of his pocket as it vibrates and stares absently at the screen. 

**Bucky:** _same time and place tomorrow? we have that test coming up_

**Tony:** _yeah, yeah sure_

***

The three of them study together often, even when Bucky and Steve don’t necessarily need help. Having company is surprisingly nice. Sometimes they go off campus, to the cafe down the street or one of their houses, only going to Tony’s when Howard’s away. 

They talk about their goals and dream colleges, Tony in an excited babble at the prospect of MIT, Bucky grinning over his writing aspirations, and Steve shyly talking about the art school he’s gunning for. 

More than anything else, though, they laugh. At each other, at nothing, at stupid internet trends. 

Tony wants to tell them how much he cares about them, but the words don’t come and his other messages don’t seem like enough. It makes him want to grab their hands or press a gentle kiss to each of their cheeks. But he _can’t,_ he’ll get hurt and he’ll never recover from that. They’re patient with him, and don’t ask. 

It’s on a Friday in November in their spot at the cafe that they tell him. 

“I like you,” Bucky tells him. 

“I like you, too,” Steve chimes in. 

“And we both like each other.” 

“Alright?” Tony asks, brow furrowing in confusion. 

Steve lets out a fond chuckle. “Do you like us?” 

Tony nods. “Yeah you’re both great.” 

“Doll, for a genius sometimes you’re so daft. Would you want to go out with us?”

“Oh,” Tony breathes. “Oh? Sure... Yeah, sure.” _What the_ _fuck is happening right now?_ Honestly, whatever. He’s decided that there are two outrageously pretty boys in front of him, asking him out on a date, and he’ll be damned if he says no to them. 

Even if he’s got issues that they shouldn’t have to deal with. 

***

They go on dates. Many, many dates. 

Steve and Tony visit the local art museum; while Steve studies the art Tony studies Steve, his facial expressions and his likes (and his very pretty face). 

_“You really love this stuff, huh?”_

_Steve ducks his head, golden hair falling softly into his face. Without thinking, Tony reaches up and pushes it back, fingers careful._

Bucky and Tony go to the movies and see some cheesy romantic comedy that Tony ends up adoring. 

_“Your laugh is the cutest thing, doll,” Bucky whispers after Tony dissolves into giggles at a joke on screen._

_Tony gently boops his nose. “Not as adorable as you.”_

Bucky and Steve go to a baseball game, sending selfies to Tony to tell him they miss him. 

The three of them go rollerskating and out for ice cream and to themed diners and to Build-a-Bear in the next town over and to the fairgrounds.

He’s going to do it today, he’s going to hold their goddamn hands. He is so, so tired of letting Howard control how he shows his love for other people. The struggle to separate how his love for Howard was used against him from the outcome of his love for other people is hard but he’s determined to do it. 

They’re sitting in the cafe, sipping at milkshakes and making idle conversation. 

“I really like you,” Tony says, uncharacteristically quiet, “Both of you.”

“That’s good sweetheart, because we really like you.” Steve is honestly too good for this world.

“You’ve probably been wondering why I’m not very touchy. It’s not because I don’t want to… want to hug you and hold you and all of that I just…”

Bucky smiles, all gentle and patient and kind. “You don’t have to tell us, doll. We’re more than happy to go at whatever pace you set.”

Now Tony’s grinning _and_ blushing. “I know, but I wanna. It’s just that, after everything, letting someone know the kind of power they have over me by casually touching them is just… it’s terrifying. I hold someone’s hand and they know I love them and then they can use that against me so easily and I could end up hurt even more than I already am and I know it’s not rational but my brain is like the CEO of irrational fears.” 

“Oh, Tony.” Bucky’s expression is agonized and Tony wants to sink into his arms. Maybe one of these days, his brain will let him. 

“I’m going to kill whatever bastard abused your love and trust like that.” So Tony had not been expecting that from Steve of all people. 

Tony laughs. “Okay, Stevie, good luck with that. But hey, no more sad talk. We’re on a date, remember?”

“Right,” Steve readily agrees, though he still looks pissed, “What’s next on the agenda?” 

“Agenda,” Tony mocks, looking at Bucky, “Who even says things like that?” 

Bucky leans over to whisper “Grandpas,” conspiratorially in Tony’s ear. However, Steve must have some crazy good hearing, because he pouts at both of them. 

Smiling sweetly and shooing them out of the cafe, Tony says, “Come on you lazy lugs, we’re walking to the movies now.” 

“Yes sir,” Bucky says with a dramatic wink and they’re on their way. 

Tony argues with himself over whether or not to reach for their hands as they stroll leisurely. His eyes wander over the buildings all lit up and the people laughing and dancing through the streets. It’s beautiful; he may hate this town, but he is capable of giving credit where credit is due. 

“You alright, doll?” 

He hums, slowly linking one of his pinkies with Steve’s and then doing the same with Bucky. Baby steps, right? “Yeah, I’m good.” 

And in this moment he means it.

**Author's Note:**

> please let me know what you think! kudos and comments are always appreciated :)


End file.
